


Family Ties

by story_strudel



Series: My favorite crackship [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Beach House, Blow Jobs, Cute, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Reeve is insecure, Reeve's family is stupid rich, Reno can't with his feelings, Smoking, Swimming, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gazing at the ocean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/story_strudel/pseuds/story_strudel
Summary: Reeve’s mother is waiting for them in front of the house, sticklike arms folded disapprovingly across her chest. Taking one look at Reno - still sandy and mostly naked - she turns on Reeve with a curled lip. “Who is he?”“Why don’t you ask him?” Reeve replies. “You know. Like a normal person.”...In which Reno and Reeve’s romantic getaway is rudely interrupted.
Relationships: Reno/Reeve Tuesti
Series: My favorite crackship [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806301
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Family Ties

**Author's Note:**

> The saga of Shinra's favorite odd couple continues.

_..._

_Family Ties_

_..._

Reeve wakes to the warmth of sunlight bathing his face. It’s a soft, unfamiliar sensation, and it means that he is most definitely late for work. 

Did he forget to set his alarm? Did he sleep through it? Maybe his PHS is...huh. There appears to be someone sharing his bed. Which...isn’t his bed? Reeve does not own purple sheets. 

All at once, he remembers. Late night calls. Unanswered messages. Days of impotent worrying and too many flights of stairs. After all of that, finally, _finally_ he remembers Reno. 

Reno resembling death warmed over with tangled hair and sallow skin and hollow cheeks from an IV and jello diet. Reno with bandages and bruises and bags beneath his eyes who had brushed off almost losing his arm like it was just an inconvenient day at work. Which maybe for him it was.

Reno who is currently lying next to him, breathing quietly with his back against Reeve’s chest.

Reeve remains as still as possible. He needs to pee, and his nose itches, and the clock on the bedside table reads 9:43 am, but disturbing Reno now would be unthinkable. 

“Ain’t you late for work?”

So much for letting Reno sleep. “They’ll survive without me,” Reeve says, though he’s not certain that’s the case. “How do you feel?”

“Thirsty.” Sitting up, the redhead scrubs a hand across his face. “Ain’t exactly what I had in mind for our first night together.”

“Reno-.”

“I’m fine,” he says a little sharply. “Thanks for all of it. Last night, I mean.”

Reno can’t seem to work up to his usual bravado. He sits with lank hair and slumped shoulders, looking somehow like he wants to go back to bed and claw his way out of his own skin at the same time.

  
  


“You don’t need to thank me.” Sitting up, Reeve winces as his back gives a tremendous crack. “Sorry that I slept here. I was going to move to the couch once you fell asleep, but I must have nodded off.”

“The last thing you gotta do is apologize, man. I was the one to…” Instead of finishing the thought, Reno makes a vague, frustrated gesture with his hand. 

He looks so dejected that Reeve can’t help reaching out to pat his shoulder. However, he freezes when the redhead jerks away. Judging by Reno’s mortified expression, the flinch was involuntary, but that kind of makes it worse.

Reeve gets off the bed to give him space. “Sorry, I-.”

Don’t apologize,” Reno snaps before schooling his features into something less irritated. “I can take care of myself, okay?”

Reeve frowns at his bandaged arm. “Pardon me if I’m not convinced.” 

Reno has little to say to that, and they remain in stony silence for about thirty seconds before he cracks. “You really ain’t gonna get it if you’re late for work?”

Oh, Reeve realizes. He’s asking him to leave. 

...

Reeve spends the next few days wondering if Reno’s mad at him. After examining the situation from every angle, he comes to the conclusion that it’s possible he was a _bit_ overbearing. Reeve gets that he can be a lot. He’s heard it from enough exes, family members, colleagues, and casual acquaintances to know it’s true. And, well, calling and texting Reno at fifteen minute intervals while he was in the hospital and then showing up at his house unannounced might have been a little over-the-top.

Except it absolutely wasn’t over-the-top because Reno almost _died_. Of course, there’s no telling him that. Which is why Reeve comes to the painful decision to give him space. 

This doesn’t mean he’s not game for some snooping, though, which is how he finds himself in Tseng’s office on Tuesday.

“Director Tuesti,” Tseng says, watching Reeve shift nervously from foot to foot with a pleasant, debatably friendly smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, er…” Reeve glares at Tseng’s impeccably organized workspace. “I’m afraid this isn’t a strictly professional inquiry. You see-.”

“Reno is on paid temporary leave. He will return to work when he has learned his lesson. And recovered, naturally.”

Well, that explains why Reeve hasn’t run into him at work, which is kind of a relief because he had been afraid Reno was avoiding him. “Right,” he says. “Thanks.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.” Tseng doesn’t sound surprised at all.

…

That evening, Reeve receives a phone call from his mother, which he ignores. To distract himself from the guilt of being the world’s worst son, he orders takeout, pours a glass of wine, and retreats into his workshop. 

Reeve’s workshop is really just the back half of his garage. It’s strewn with all manner of spare tools, cables, and junky laptops repurposed from work. 

His current project is what he has dubbed a “mini-mog”. It’s a moogle about the size of a field mouse that he’s mostly just building because it’s cute. At the moment, he’s trying to figure out how to make it fly without incorporating a wingspan that’s too large for other forms of mobility. As he sits on the cool concrete floor and wonders if he could fit the mini-mog with tiny rocket boots, Frank ambles over and starts eyeing his fish and chips.

“That’s mine,” Reeve mutters, scooping up the cat before he can stick his grubby face into his dinner. “You don’t think I’m overbearing, right?”

Frank purrs amicably while casting mutinous glances at the takeout. 

“Okay. Okay. I know I’m overbearing. It’s no wonder tha-.”

His self-pitying monologue is interrupted by a chime from his PHS, which lies on the floor just out of reach. Assuming it’s Sonya telling him off for ignoring their mother - because it means she’s now bothering her - he glances absently at the screen.

Only to dislodge Frank in a mad scramble to grab the device. 

_Reno:_

_lookin better, yeah?_

Accompanying the message is a selfie of the redhead fresh out of the shower. His skin is damp, his eyes are bright, and his injured arm has been cropped carefully from the frame.

Reeve types and deletes five different versions of _are you okay_ and _are you mad at me_ before settling on _you always look good_ instead.

Reno responds with a smiling devil emoji and a _what ru doin_ for good measure. Maybe Reeve hasn’t ruined everything after all.

Hastily, he snaps a photo of his workshop, as well as Frank, whose face is now buried in his battered cod. _Building stuff._

_Reno:_

_its 1am and ur doin that?_

_smart guy like u never heard of sleep i guess_

  
  


_Reeve:_

_Sleep? We’re not acquainted_. 

_Anyway, glass houses. What are you doing up?_

He keeps his eyes trained on the screen as Reno reads the message and types for a long time. He’s probably wrong, but Reeve imagines him writing and rewriting, just like he did.

_Reno:_

_never imagined u buildin shit before_

_bet u look real sexy_

_grease under ur nails_

Reeve shakes his head with an embarrassed chuckle and lets the unanswered question sink to the back of his mind. At least Reno’s talking to him.

  
  


_Reeve:_

_Get better fast, okay?_

_Also, not to be needy, but can I see you this weekend?_

  
  


His resolve to give Reno space has lasted exactly as long as it took the redhead to send him a picture of himself shirtless.

  
  


_Reno:_

_buddy i sure wish_

_mako meds kicked in and im back at it_

_gonna be in rocket town all week_

  
  


Reeve frowns. It seems a little premature for Reno to resume fieldwork, and didn’t Tseng imply that he’s basically under house arrest? Then again, Administrative Research is the most chronically understaffed division in Shinra. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped.

...

Speaking of understaffed, Wednesday happens. 

When Mei-Ling calls in sick, Reeve’s not worried. He figures they can make it through the New Midgar Sustainable Housing for a Brighter Tomorrow pitch meeting with only a little bit of scraping. But then Mei-Ling’s assistant, the communications coordinator, and both project consultants also call out, and suddenly it’s Reeve, Tevia, and Ricky the intern holding down the fort. 

“It’ll be fine,” Tevia says as she examines his calendar on her computer and adds the pitch meeting and prep time to his schedule. “You’ll just have to be in two places at once from 1:30 until 4.”

Well, it could be worse. Reeve turns to Ricky. “Can you pull the numbers from the cost/benefit analysis?”

“You got it, director!” Ricky says, rushing off to his desk and toppling a stack of public health pamphlets in the process.

Reeve and Tevia exchange glances. It’s going to be fine. Really.

...

By 8:30 pm, Reeve has misplaced his PHS, spilled coffee on his shirt, spilled coffee on his back-up shirt, realized he forgot his mother’s birthday, and somehow managed to accomplish everything on his schedule. Everything except his quarterly review with Rufus, which might explain why Shinra’s president is currently blocking the doorway to his office.

“Take some time off,” Rufus says before Reeve can get a word in. “I’m not asking.”

“I’m ready for my review,” Reeve protests as he attempts to squirm past him. “If you’ll come this way…”

Rufus hauls him back by the collar. “When was the last time you slept?”

Admittedly, Reeve has missed several hours of sleep lately due to work and his chronic stress about Reno’s well-being. But he’s willing to move past that, and he thinks Rufus is wise enough to do the same. “I don’t see how that’s important as long as the quality of my work-.”

“You spelled ‘Shinra’ wrong on your presentation, and you referred to Scarlet as,” - Rufus squints at the document he’s holding - “‘the scary one’”. 

Reeve may have forgotten to proofread his PowerPoint. “Did she notice?”

“I believe she took it as a compliment, but that’s not the point.” Rufus moves to block him as he tries once more to make a break for his desk. “You’re useless to me like this. Go somewhere else, and stay there until you feel better.”

Reeve turns to the front desk to beseech Tevia for support, but he already knows it’s a lost cause. She’s been telling him to take time off for months. 

“It’s not that easy,” he wheedles. “My responsibilities. My projects.”

“It is exactly that easy.” Reaching out to straighten Reeve’s collar, Rufus offers him an unsettling, doll-like smile. “I don’t care what you do or where you do it, but if you’re in the office tomorrow morning, Rude will personally escort you from the premises.”

Rude, who has been looming in the corner next to a potted fern, cracks his neck. 

“Right,” Reeve says. “One day off.”

“Three,” Tevia suggests traitorously from across the room.

“One and a half.”

Rufus shakes his head. “Two’s the final offer.”

Crossing his arms across his chest, Reeve fights to hide a pout. “Fine.”

Satisfied, Rufus exits the office with a flourish of his trench coat. Rude begins to follow him, only to pause at the door. 

“Reno’s getting a little fidgety cooped up at home,” he says.

Reeve’s head snaps up. “He told me he was on an assignment.”

“He may have misrepresented the truth.”

Lied, more like it.

“Anyway,” Rude continues, “he won’t ask you to come over, but he might appreciate it if you just, you know...” 

“...got it,” Reeve says, massaging his forehead.

Tevia’s gaze darts back and forth between them. “Wait. What?”

...

“Is it because he doesn’t want to see me anymore?” Reeve asks Frank when he gets home at a quarter to ten.

From his perch on the windowsill, the cat lifts a leg and licks himself. 

“But then why did he bother texting in the first place?” 

Unsatisfied with the cat’s lack of sympathy, Reeve kicks off his shoes, abandons his suit jacket on the floor, and makes a beeline for the couch. Flopping down with a dramatic sigh, he reflects on the night Reno got home from the hospital. 

Reeve had arrived expecting the worst. Based on the details Rude had provided, Reno barely made it out alive, never mind with all his limbs attached. But when he arrived, he found the redhead up and mobile - certainly the worse for wear but not acting like someone recovering from a traumatic injury. 

But if Reno almost passing out in the shower was anything to go by, he had been pretty far from okay.

And that gets Reeve thinking. For being such a chatty guy, Reno doesn’t actually divulge that much about himself. He acts so cocky and in-control and - save for that one night in North Corel - nothing close to vulnerable. But Reeve remembers how soft he had become as he finally succumbed to painkillers and exhaustion, how he’d melted into Reeve’s touch and become a needy, grievously injured mess. 

Well, if Reno secretly craves affection that badly, his daily manner of conduct certainly isn’t the way to go about obtaining it.

Nor is lying in regards to his whereabouts. 

…

Reeve figures that, if he’s going to be forced to take time off, he might as well be productive. This is how he ends up outside Reno’s apartment at 8:03 on Thursday morning.

“Hey,” Reno says when he opens the door. “You, uh, sure like to show up unannounced.”

Taking in the other’s flat hair and disorganized apartment, Reeve feels a little guilty. Just a little, though, because the end justifies the means. “How’s Rocket Town?”

“Uhhh…”

“Never mind,” Reeve says. “You have to pack.”

Scratching the back of his head, Reno stares at Reeve’s shoes. His arm is no longer in a sling, which suggests he at least wasn’t lying about the mako healing, but he still looks pretty rough. “Are we goin’ on a trip?”

“Yep!” Pushing his way inside and nodding at Reno’s cat from where she’s hissing at him from behind a stack of takeout containers, Reeve heads straight to the bedroom. “Come on. We don’t have time to waste.”

“What about Fleabag?”

“Rude said he would feed her. Also, you named her _that?_ ”

Reno trails after him. “Am I missin’ something? Like, are you on the run?”

Reeve locates a black duffle bag poking out from beneath the bed. “Just like you, _I_ am taking a well-deserved vacation.”

“Careful with that bag. It’s...warned you.”

Reeve stumbles back when he finds the duffle brimming with gun parts, rope, and what he hopes aren’t live grenades. The redhead just rolls his eyes. “Since when do you take vacation?” he asks. “You ain’t exactly famous for your work/life balance.”

Locating a less ominous gym bag hanging from the back of the door, Reeve makes his way to the closet. “I do more than just work,” he says, selecting a few shirts and turning to fix Reno with his best kicked puppy expression. “Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“...you ain’t playin’ fair, man.” Opening one of his dresser drawers, Reno grabs a few pairs of socks and lobs them at Reeve’s head. “Fine. I’ll let you kidnap me, but you gotta say where we’re goin’.”

…

By the time they reach Junon, Reno’s mood has improved significantly. This seems due in large part to Reeve letting him drive the car.

“You mean to tell me you got real estate in Costa del Sol and never told me?” Reno hollers over the blaring stereo and wind gusting through the open windows. “Seriously, yo. You’re playin’ this sugar daddy thing all wrong.”

“I’m not your sugar daddy,” Reeve shouts back, but his voice is lost as Reno guns the engine.

Despite Reno’s creative interpretation of traffic laws, they make it to Junon in one piece and successfully board the noon ferry. Leaving the car in the hold, they make their way to the main deck. Reeve has been known to get seasick on occasion, but Reno seems to have no such concerns. The first thing he does is book it to the railing, where he leans too far out, expression caught in an enthusiastic grin. “Look,” he says, pointing at a pair of dolphins swimming next to the ship. “You didn’t used to see that kinda thing near here. Water was too toxic.”

Reeve is well aware. After all, the WRO has been instrumental in restoring the Junon coastline. However, he doesn’t mention this because he’s too busy thinking about how much he likes this lighthearted, practically cheerful side of Reno. It strikes a refreshing counterpoint to the menacing demeanor he projects at work.

…

The Tuesti family beach house is a few miles north of Costa del Sol proper, further up the peninsula at the end of a winding gravel road. Reeve’s father had it built years ago so that his mother had a place to rest when the paparazzi and social pressures of Midgar high society became too much. The property - which also includes a sprawling garden and proximity to a private beach - is walled off and boasts robust security, which Reeve thinks might put Reno at ease long enough to actually relax.

“By house, I guess you meant whole-ass mansion,” Reno mutters as he steps out of the car and takes in the home’s columned front and veranda. 

Reeve retrieves their bags from the trunk. “It, uh, caters to my mother’s tastes.”

“Yeah? I like the statues.”

The garden is dotted with life-size sculptures of people in various stages of coitus. “She’s friends with the artist,” Reeve says weakly. 

Reno gives a particularly debauched set of stone figures a careful once over. “Gives me some ideas,” he says, straight-faced before turning to Reeve with a wink. “What’re you standin’ around for? Give me the tour.”

...

After the tour, which includes Reno teasing Reeve about his childhood bedroom for about twenty minutes, they share a late lunch courtesy of the well-stocked fridge the property’s caretaker provided and head out to the beach. 

Reeve is fairly fond of swimming, but the second he sees Reno stripped down, he decides to stick to dry land where it makes sense to wear a shirt. 

The redhead is a sight to behold - all chaotic hair and lean, strong limbs that wouldn’t look out of place on a dancer’s stage. Despite turning Reno’s apartment inside-out, they hadn’t been able to locate any swimwear, so on top of all that he’s wearing a pair of running shorts that, once wet, leave little to the imagination. 

Even so, the purple scar circling his right bicep makes Reeve’s stomach flip.

“What’re you doin’ over there?” Reno shouts at him, grinning as he splashes about in the surf. “Come on. You can read any time!”

Marking his page in the novel he’s been pretending to work through while leering at his companion, Reeve heaves himself up off his beach towel and makes his way down to the sea. “Happy?” he asks, kicking water at Reno’s shins.

“Mmm...still too dry I think.” Throwing an arm over Reeve’s shoulder, Reno pulls him into a headlock and pretends he’s about to chuck him into the ocean. It’s a token effort at best, and having the redhead pressed flush against him is hardly what Reeve would call a hardship.

Reno seems to share his wavelength because he stops rough-housing and kisses him instead.

It’s late afternoon, and the low sun casts the beach and nearby palms in swathes of mellow gold. Reno’s mouth is warm and plush, and when Reeve ducks down to kiss his throat, his skin tastes faintly of salt and sunscreen. 

Humming pleasantly, Reno tilts his head back to offer easier access.

This simple show of trust causes an emotion Reeve can’t quite name to claw at his chest. He continues placing careful kisses up Reno’s neck. For all of the Turk’s sharp edges, this part of him is tender. “Do you even have to shave?” he grumbles as he nuzzles his jawline. “Oh my god. I didn’t say that.”

Chuckling, Reno takes his hand and starts leading him back to shore. Once they’re out of the water, he grabs the front of Reeve’s shirt and drags him to the earth. It can’t be comfortable being pinned to the clammy sand, but Reno doesn’t seem to mind. Digging his fingers into Reeve’s hair, he graces him with an inviting smile. “You gonna make a mess of me, Tuesti?”

Reeve pauses. “Reno, I -.”

“I know,” the redhead replies, uncertainty creeping into his features. “We can stop. I just-.”

And then he freezes.

Reeve blinks. “Wha-?”

“Shh!” Throwing a leg around his waist, Reno flips them so that he’s covering Reeve’s body with his own. “Someone’s here.”

Seconds later, Reeve hears it. Voices.

“Reno, I -.”

“I said shh!” Muscles tense, Reno scans the palm trees beyond the beach. “They’re comin’ down the path from the house,” he mutters. “When I count to three-.”

_“Sonya! Where in Gaia’s name are you going?”_

_“Leave me alone, Mom. I wanna check on something”_

_“IT’S ALMOST DARK. ”_

_“Chill. It’s not even 4:30.”_

Tension bleeding out of him, Reeve pats Reno’s shoulder. “Relax,” he says. “It’s just my family.”

“Wh...what?”

Before he can respond, a pale, round face emerges from the foliage beyond the beach. “HAH,” Reeve’s sister shouts when she sees them. “I _knew_ it.”

...

Things could be worse. For example, if Reeve were actively on fire. 

If his baby sister stumbling upon him and Reno entwined on the beach weren’t bad enough, his mother is also here. She’s waiting for them in front of the house, sticklike arms folded disapprovingly across her chest. Taking one look at Reno - still sandy and mostly naked - she turns on Reeve with a curled lip. “Who _is_ he?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Reeve replies. “You know. Like a normal person.”

His rudeness has the desired effect of making her storm off into the house. 

One down. One to go. “So you’re Reno,” Sonya says, crowding into Reno’s personal space and giving him a thorough once over. “When Reeve said he was dating someone from work, I figured he’d have more of an accountant vibe.” 

“I’m not much for math,” Reno grinds out, gazing beseechingly at Reeve over the top of her head. “I’m assistant director of Shinra’s Administrative Research division.”

“Administrative Research, huh?” Sonya turns to Reeve, eyebrows raised. “Well now, that sounds interesting.”

…

The first thing Reeve does when they enter the house is herd Reno upstairs so they can barricade themselves in his bedroom.

“Fuck!” Reno hisses as soon as the door is shut. Sitting onto the bed - which still boasts the glow-in-the-dark star bedspread from when Reeve was 12 - he hides his face in his hands and groans. “I think your ma might murder me.”

“I won’t let her do that.” Reeve runs a shaky hand through his hair. “I had no idea they would be here.”

“Yeah, I figured,” 

Sitting next to Reno on the bed, Reeve places a hand gently on his back. “I’m really sorry.”

Reno chokes out a dry laugh. “What are you sorry to me for? It’s fine.”

“It really isn’t.” 

Reno stands and hitches up his still wet running shorts. “I should go.”

“What? Why?” 

“Your family’s here. Ain’t you wanna spend time with them?”

“...not particularly.” 

“Seems like they ain’t seen you in a while,” Reno hedges, not moving but clearly eyeing his travel bag in the corner.

“It isn’t fair,” Reeve mutters. “We were here first.” 

“Ain’t a big deal. I’ll call a taxi.”

“Don’t do that.” Reeve hates how his voice waivers a little bit. “You’ve been having such a hard time lately, and I...I wanted to…”

“Don’t stress about it,” Reno says, tense expression melting a little bit. “I had a whole lotta fun, but I ain’t...it’s a little early to introduce me to your family. That’s all.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Reeve insists. “To be honest, I have half a mind-.”

A knock on the door causes him to bottle up that thought. 

“Reeve,” Sonya calls from the hallway, “and, uh, Reno? You decent?”

Snorting softly, Reno pecks Reeve on the lips and disappears into the bathroom. 

“Sure,” Reeve replies. “Come in.” 

“Where is he?” his sister asks when she opens the door and finds Reeve’s bedroom depressingly empty except for him.

“Shower.” 

For a moment, Sonya doesn’t say anything, content to observe Reeve, who is becoming more annoyed with every passing second. “So,” she finally says, “when were you gonna tell me you’re dating a Turk?”

“How do you know he’s a Turk?” he counters, just to be difficult. 

“Administrative Research? I don’t work at Shinra, and even I know what that means. Besides he’s all...you know.” 

_HE’S ALL WHAT, SONYA?_ Reeve wants to ask, but that probably wouldn’t be productive. “I really like him,” he settles on instead. “You will, too, if you give him a chance.”

“Oh, I will. No guarantees on Mom, though.”

**…**

As difficult a person as his mother is, she isn’t actually evil enough to let anyone go hungry. This means that Reno is invited to dinner, though the look on his face suggests starvation might be preferable. Either way, an hour later Reeve, Reno, Sonya, and their mother are clustered around a table at Costa del Sol’s nicest bistro.

“So,” says Sonya, waving a forkful of calamari in Reno’s general direction, “tell me about your work.”

Reeve kicks her under the table.

“Ouch!” Reno glares at him.

Sonya continues smiling. Their mother, ignoring everyone, signals to the waiter for another glass of wine.

“Not much to tell,” Reno says with a shrug. “Our department used to be housed under Public Safety, but we restructured a few months ago. These days, our focus is on recruitment to accommodate that expansion, so I’m basically a glorified babysitter for junior employees.” 

It’s kind of remarkable how good Reno is at making his job sound ordinary while not outright lying to Reeve’s family. Not that Reeve would care if he lied to his family, but it’s still impressive.

“That so?” Sonya says, rising to the challenge. “I heard the Tur….errr, Administrative Research recruited for the SOLDIER project, too.”

This time Reeve nails her right in the shin. “Sonya,” he says, “don’t make him talk about work. We’re on vacation.”

“No, it’s cool,” Reno says, offering his brightest, fakest smile. “Shinra’s actually pivoted away from military initiatives to focus on sustainable energy and urban renewal. That’s where this guy comes in,” he adds, slapping Reeve a little too enthusiastically on the back. 

“Still,” Sonya presses, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, “you must have been arou-.”

“That’s enough.” It’s the first thing their mother’s said since ordering her shrimp scampi. “Can’t we discuss something more refined than _business?_ ”

This gives Reeve an opening to bring up the opera he and Reno attended a few weeks back. However, though this topic would normally meet his mother’s criteria for proper dinner conversation, she greets his attempt with icy disinterest. 

“The lead was that tenor you like so much.”

She picks at her tomato burrata side salad. “Mmm.”

“What was his name?” Reeve plows on, desperate to fend off the uncomfortable silence looming over them. “Matthias Arturo? Mateo Arballo?”

She doesn’t even bother to make noises this time, and Sonya, who has zero interest in classical music and a much higher tolerance for awkwardness than Reeve, is no help whatsoever.

Just when he thinks he might have a nervous breakdown due to the unique dysfunction that is his family, Reno points at his plate. “You still want that?”

Eyes turning glumly to his half-eaten filet of lemon sol, Reeve shakes his head.

“Then give it here.”

How can Reno possibly be hungry? Reeve’s pretty sure he’s developed at least three stress-induced stomach ulcers in the last hour, and the night’s not even over.

“Shouldn’t waste food,” Reno chides as he accepts the plate and slides the leftovers onto his dish. The scrape of his fork causes Reeve to wince.

Expression caught in a frown, Reeve’s mother watches as he attacks the food in neat, efficient bits.

“Where are you from?” she finally asks. 

Reeve opens his mouth to tell her how rude her question was, only for someone to kick _him_ under the table. 

“Slums,” Reno says, the carefully professional tone he took when talking about work melting into something a bit more sly. “But you knew that.”

Unruffled, their mother sips her wine. “Which sector?”

“Three. You?”

She stares at Reno long and hard over the rim of her glass. “Sector Two,” she says at last. 

Across the table, Sonya’s gaze reflects Reeve’s shock. Their mother _never_ talks about her childhood beneath the Plate.

Propping his chin against the heel of his hand, Reno offers her a conspiratorial smirk. “Neighbors, huh?”

“Sector Three was rough.”

“The slums’ slums. That’s what people called it.”

“Mmm.” Apparently satisfied with their conversation, their mother returns her attention to her dinner.

  
  


…

“Why are you blaming me?”

They have returned from dinner, only to realize that no one remembered to bring the keycard needed to open the front gate.

“Because you drove,” Reeve says, pointing accusingly at his sister. “Isn’t there an entry card attached to your key fob?”

Sonya is incensed. “I lost my original key fob on our road trip to Fort Condo two years ago. You _know_ this.”

“Of course,” their mother mutters, “and you never bothered to arrange a replacement.” 

“Thanks, Mom. As always, your input is _super_ helpful.”

Reeve massages his temples. “There’s no way we’re getting past the security system, so we might as well stay at the inn and see if- .”

“I can do it.” 

They turn to gawk at Reno, who has exited the car and is appraising the front gate.

Reeve frowns. “Reno, it’s four meters high.”

“Let me worry about that. Any other security measures I should know about? Motion sensors? Robots? Dogs?”

“You would have noticed if we had dogs,” Sonya says, eyes bright and curious. As she tells Reno the passcodes for disabling the various alarms, Reeve stands next to his mother - who is still ignoring him - and worries. Reno’s supposed to be recovering, not breaking into a highly fortified vacation property.

Stepping back a few paces, Reno shakes out the tension in his shoulders and rotates his wrists. The wall looms above him - a foot-thick slab of reinforced concrete topped with razor wire.

Reeve swallows. “Reno, I’m not sure -.”

Granting himself a few paces to build up speed, the Turk launches himself forward and, using his momentum and the friction of his rubber-soled boots, runs up and vaults neatly over the wall. 

Sonya gasps. Even their mother looks impressed.

Holding his breath, Reeve waits for the alarms to sound, but nothing happens until, with a soft creak, the gate swings open. 

...

“Oh my God,” Sonya says for the tenth time as they file into the kitchen. “That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Reno shrugs, looking a little too pleased with himself for his nonchalance to be convincing. “Wasn’t nothin’,” he says, leaning back against the counter and accepting the beer she’s thrusting into his hands. 

Sipping her own drink, Sonya’s expression turns devious. “They teach you how to do that in Administrative Research?”

“Oh, I’m just naturally athletic,” Reno replies. Then, he winks. 

At least they seem to be hitting it off.

“Well,” says his mother, coming up to stand beside him, “he certainly is unique.”

Reeve opens his mouth to reply only for her to brush past him and ascend the staircase to her rooms. She may have decided to tolerate Reno, but apparently her son is another matter.

“You’ve really done it,” Sonya says, popping open another beer and handing it to him. “Forgot her birthday. Used her beach house without inviting her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gives you the cold shoulder for a month.” 

...

“Your ma’s okay,” Reno says later when they’ve retired to their bedroom for the night.

Reeve rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m bein’ serious,” Wiggling out of his shirt without unbuttoning it, Reno starts digging through his travel bag. “Coulda skinned me alive, and instead she bought me dinner. All while you were bein’ a brat.”

“A _brat?_ I’m not a brat!”

“You sure are.” Ambling over to where Reeve’s sprawled out on the bed, Reno places his EMR on the nightstand next to the cactuar alarm clock and flicks him in the forehead. “Was kinda cute, but you should still apologize.”

Slapping a hand over his abused forehead, Reeve scowls. “Why?” 

“‘Cause she’s your ma.”

Reeve groans at the uncompromising bluntness of his words. “You don’t understand. I’d be playing right into her hands.”

“So what?” Reno continues, kicking off his slacks so that he’s lecturing Reeve in nothing but his underwear. “Shouldn’t fight with your family, right?”

The more Reeve listens to Reno talk about Reeve’s family, the more glaring it becomes that he doesn’t discuss his own. Thinking back, Reeve can’t remember seeing a single family photo in his apartment. And he has yet to hear Reno answer a call that’s not concerned with work.

“You’re right,” he says. “I'll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good.” Eyes hooded, Reno sits next to where Reeve’s splayed out on the mattress and walks two fingers up his chest. “And what about tonight?”

“...what about tonight?”

Reno chuffs and fiddles with Reeve’s shirt buttons. “If you can’t tell, I’m tryin’ to seduce you.”

Reeve flushes, mind suddenly full of how Reno had looked spread out and lovely on the beach. He’s just as beautiful now - his lips parted and the angles of his body softened by the warm light of the bedside lamp.

“Good news,” he says, shoving the sudden wave of amorphous anxiety that hits him to the back of his mind. “It’s working.”

…

They’ve almost made it to second base when someone screams from the far end of the house.

Disentangling his hands from Reeve’s back pockets, Reno bolts to his feet. “The hell was that?”

_“Reeve!”_ For such a frail lady, his mother’s voice sure carries. _“REEVE.”_

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Running a hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair, Reeve groans.

“What’s goin’ on?” Reno’s gaze darts back and forth between Reeve’s unconcerned body language and his nightstick.

“You know. The usual.” Clambering to his feet, Reeve refastens the top two buttons of his shirt and makes his way to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

He enters his mother’s bedroom to find her peering into the ensuite bathroom. She’s wearing a satin robe with chocobo-feather trim over her nightgown, and her face is slathered in a mint green sleeping mask.

Reeve sighs. “Is it a spider?”

“It’s a _monster_.”

He peers into the bathroom. “It’s a spider.”

Reeve coaxes the offending arachnid out from behind the toilet and herds it into the toothbrush cup. After depositing the poor creature in the ficus on the balcony, he returns to find his mother reclining on the chaise longue with an arm thrown dramatically across her eyes. 

“You’re smashing your mask,” he points out, sitting on the foot of the bed so that they’re facing each other. 

“What does it matter if my son can’t even bear to spend time with me?”

“What does that have to do with spiders?” Reeve replies testily before remembering his promise to Reno. “Listen, I’m sorry I forgot your birthday.”

She fixes him with a glare. “I brought you into this world, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I apologized. What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to answer my calls!” she says, pounding her fist against the velvet arm of the chaise longue. “I want you to spend more time with your family and to work less and to tell your mother when you invite your trashy boyfriend to her goddamn beach house!”

“Reno’s not trashy.”

“Well, how would I know when you’re too ashamed of me to introduce him properly?”

Despite the fact that his maturity regresses approximately three decades whenever he’s within a hundred meters of his family, Reeve recognizes that Reno isn’t actually the issue. “I’m not ashamed of you, Mom. It’s just...you take up a lot of space.”

Reeve’s fairly certain she’s going to blow up when he says this, but instead her shoulders slump. “And you don’t?” she asks, voice slipping into a less theatrical melancholy. “When you were a little boy, you were so bright and full of big ideas. Then you let yourself get swallowed up by that wretched _company_ and involved yourself in dangerous schemes that you still won’t tell me about...and pretty soon there was no room for me or Sonya or anybody else.”

Reeve thinks back to his years at Shinra before Meteor. He thinks of his disenchantment after what they did to Sector Seven, his escapades with Cloud and company through the eyes of Cait Sith, and the days he spent waiting for the world to end in a Shinra prison cell. He imagines how frightened his family must have been not knowing if he was alive or dead.

With a sigh, he stands and pulls her up into a gentle hug. “I’ll be better,” he says, barely noticing when her face mask smears against the front of his shirt. “I’ll work less. I’ll visit you on weekends. I’ll-.”

“Now you sound like your father. So smart and still missing the point.” Reeve’s mother leans back and gazes up at him. “It’s not just about making your family happy, you know? You have to take care of yourself.. Enjoy things. Fall in love. Cultivate hobbies.”

Reeve pouts. “Robotics is a hobby.”

“Fine,” she allows. “You have one hobby.”

Despite her teasing, Reeve finds himself distinctly touched. He doesn’t know if he’s ever had such a candid conversation with his mother. Certainly not since his father died.

“And you know,” his mother says, voice growing coy as the emotional arc of their conversation winds to a close, “I think that trashy boyfriend of yours might have potential.”

… 

When Reeve returns to his room, the bed is empty, and the bay windows have been thrown open. Reno’s shoes are gone. As is his nightstick.

If he wanted to stretch his legs so badly, he could have just used the front door.

Flopping down on the bed, Reeve feels a curious blend of disappointment and relief. He wants Reno. He wants him so badly for so many reasons...and yeah. There’s no denying that plenty of those reasons are sexual in nature. ‘Reno is attractive’ isn’t exactly a controversial statement.

And yet Reeve hesitates. It’s not that he’s inexperienced. He’s dated other men. He’s had good sex and bad sex and sex that was just okay, but it’s...it’s been a long time. And Reeve isn’t who he used to be.

After so many years being crushed by Shinra, he’s forgotten how to be that bright, optimistic young man his mother recalls so fondly. It’s true he found a new calling with the WRO, but he’s always viewed these activities more as a form of atonement for his years of looking the other way than as something that gives him happiness for its own sake.

Even when Rufus asked him to come back to Shinra, he agreed because he saw it as an opportunity to rebuild. To do more good.

Reeve has rebuilt. He has done good. And now, finally, if he wanted to he could take time for himself. He could work less like his mother and apparently Rufus and literally everybody else who knows him seems to want. He could take a break, reconnect with things that bring him joy. 

And yeah. One of those things might be having sex with Reno. 

And, like, building a healthy, mutually supportive relationship with him. Cultivating emotional intimacy. Talking about their feelings.

But also, sex.

So what’s stopping him? Certainly, he doesn’t have Reno’s muscle definition or brazen confidence or security in flashing cleavage at the office. He doesn’t have his sharp wit, either, or his certainty in who he is and how he presents himself. 

But perhaps Reeve possesses charms he’s just not seeing. After all, Reno must be attracted to something about him, right?

...

With the tension between Reeve and his mother settled, the following day turns out to be quite pleasant. They decide to visit the public beach in Costa for a change of pace, and Reno reminds him to bring his keycard.

When they get to the beach, they are granted about fifteen minutes of privacy before someone recognizes Reeve’s mother.

“Hey!” a man about Reeve’s age shouts, pointing at her the same way one might to indicate a particularly bizarre zoo animal. “Is that Simone Tuesti?” 

With a displeased grimace, his mother adjusts her sunhat and pushes her sunglasses further up her nose. 

“Looks like it,” the guy’s friend replies. “Do you think she would give us an autograph?”

Sonya rolls her eyes. “Quick, Mom. Look scarier, and maybe they’ll run away.”

Their mother, who appears cold and unapproachable even in the best of moods, does her best to comply, but this doesn’t stop a gaggle of onlookers from clustering and making their way over. 

They’ve been through this song and dance before. Though she’s no longer active on the stage, their mother’s legacy has continued long after her retirement. She was the lead in the highest grossing _Loveless_ production of all time, after all, and has more awards and tabloid scandals than she knows what to do with.

Reeve and Sonya have gotten used to it, but it’s still pretty annoying when people swarm her.

Just as the gawkers are about to converge on their target, however, Reno cuts them off. “Mornin’,” he says, stepping in front of them and offering a toothy smile. “You need somethin’?”

“Uh,” says the guy who first pointed at their mother, “we were just...”

“Just leavin’?” There’s an ugly glitter in Reno’s eyes - not quite ugly enough to constitute a serious threat, but this poor dope certainly doesn’t know that. 

“Er, yes. I was going...away. Goodbye.” The man retreats and, taking his cue, so do his followers. 

Reno watches them until they’re a good hundred meters up the beach and then turns to Reeve with a sheepish smile. “Might’a overdone it.”

With their unwanted visitors thoroughly scared off, they set up their picnic blanket and beach umbrella and get to the serious business of relaxing. For Reeve’s mother, this means reading a novel while getting surreptitiously day drunk on travel-sized bottles of rosé. For Sonya and Reeve, it’s swimming. 

Knowing that there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, Reeve removes his shirt. He, uh, definitely hasn’t been keeping up with his gym schedule. Meanwhile, Reno is just over there existing with a six-pack and eight percent body fat. 

“What are you waiting for?” Sonya, who is already wading out to sea, calls back to him.

Reeve turns to Reno “What do you say? Shall we take a dip?”

“What? Like, for fun?”

“Um, yes?” Reeve finds himself a bit bemused by the other’s incredulity. “Do you not like swimming?”

Reno shrugs. “I learned during training. Never thought of it as a leisure sorta thing.”

Despite his reservations, Reno follows Reeve dutifully out into the waves. The water off of Costa del Sol is temperate, calm, and clear. Ducking his head beneath it, Reeve watches schools of fish flit between delicate corals and smooth stretches of light-dappled sand. Though he’s not traditionally athletic, he’s always had a decent pair of lungs, and by the time he comes up for air he’s reasonably far from shore. 

Looking back, he locates Reno trailing fifteen meters or so behind him. He keeps his head above water the whole time, and his expression suggests he’s concentrating rather intently.

Reeve is so busy observing his slow but steady progress that he doesn’t bother keeping an eye on Sonya until it’s too late.

Strong fingers grip his ankles, and suddenly Reeve is submerged. Light and sound bend differently. Time itself seems to stretch. Gazing ahead, he can see where the sea floor dips, dividing the crystal shallows from the dark blue depths beyond.

Spluttering to the surface at the same time as his sister, Reeve takes the opportunity to spit water in her face. “Oh my god. You’re _evil_.”

Sonya, who was the star of her high school swim team, cackles maniacally and books it before he can retaliate.

By this time, Reno has made it to Reeve’s side. “She ain’t gonna do that to me, is she?” he asks, glancing nervously in her direction.

Reeve slicks his wet hair out of his eyes. “I’ll do my best to protect you, but no guarantees.”

“Right.” Though clearly able to swim, Reno seems to be debating whether or not he appreciates the experience. “You really do this for fun?”

“I grew up with it. Besides, swimming is good for your joints.”

“Ain’t good for your lungs, though.” 

Despite his griping, Reno stays in the water for the better part of an hour. He paddles around, occasionally trying to dunk Reeve when he strays too close. After Reeve gets the upper hand on him a few times - though not tormenting him to the degree Sonya probably would - he gives up and returns to shore, where he flops down on a beach towel next to Reeve’s mother.

“Guess you’ve got to be tough to be a Turk,” Sonya says, popping up beside him.

Following his sister’s gaze, Reeve smiles. “I think she’s warming up to him,” he says as Reno says something that makes his mother cover her mouth in a gasp. 

“Maybe. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“That’s what _I_ keep saying.”

“You know,” she says, “it’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship.”

“It’s all pretty new. I don’t know if I’d classify us as ‘in a relationship’ quite yet.”

Sonya flicks water in his face. “But you’re well on your way.”

Reeve thinks about that. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

…

After returning to the beach house, they have dinner and then make their way outside to spend the relatively cooler evening lounging around the backyard firepit. Hiding in the bathroom to furtively answer work emails, Reeve is the last to join them.

When he reaches the back patio, Sonya points at him accusingly from across the fire. “For the love of...what is _wrong_ with you?”

He stops short. “What?”

Expression scandalized, she points at his feet. “How can you leave the house dressed like that?”

“It’s not that bad,” he grouses, frowning down at his socks and sandals combination. “I don’t want mosquitoes to bite my ankles.”

Sonya turns to their mother for support. “Are you really going to sit there and let your son slander our family reputation with his terrible taste in footwear?”

Their mother gives his fashion choice an unimpressed once over. “You’re father was worse.”

Sonya devotes another ten minutes or so to heckling him before going inside to grab another drink. Without her teasing to distract him, Reeve turns to Reno. 

The redhead is slumped lazily in a foldout camping chair, long limbs sprawled in all directions with the firelight reflecting strangely in his pale eyes. He’s got a beer in one hand, but he’s not drinking it. He’s not talking much, either.

“I’m gonna take a quick walk,” he says, jumping up when he notices Reeve staring. “Be back in a bit.”

Once he’s left, Reeve and his mother sit in silence for about a minute before she lets out an irritated sigh. “You’re supposed to _follow_ him,” she says. “Really, Reeve, how are you so bad at this?”

...

The ocean is different at night - deeper and less knowable. A little frightening. As he approaches the dark, still water, Reeve feels a quiet melancholy steal over him. He gazes ahead at Reno standing with his back to him. He looks small against the vastness of the sea and starry sky. 

“You gonna get over here, or did you come all the way just to stare at my ass?”

Reeve has long come to terms with the other’s preternatural ability to sense people’s presence. Pushing his way through the palm fronds, he walks down the beach until they’re standing side by side.

“I wasn’t staring at your ass,” he says, tilting his head back to admire a cloud passing across the moon. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

“You know me. I get restless.” 

“Oh?”

Reno watches the waves lapping gently at his bare toes. “...and I was just thinkin’, I guess, about how nice you all look together. You and Sonya. And your ma.”

Reeve snorts. “Oh, yes. My histrionic mother and nosy sister are the epitome of nice.”

“You’re different around them,” Reno continues, lips curving up faintly at the edges. “Real sassy.”

Knowing that the other’s been paying such close attention makes Reeve flush. “I mean, what’s the role of family if not to bring out the worst in you?”

“I like it, though. Seein’ you comfortable.” Reno jams his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Your dad ain’t around though?” 

Reeve doesn’t mind his bluntness. If anything, it’s refreshing. “He passed away from a stroke ten years ago.”

“That’s too bad,” Reno says, sounding like he means it. “I never knew my old man. Ma wasn’t around long, either.” 

Reeve swallows. He can’t say he’s surprised, but he’ll be damned if he lets Reno know that. “Why’d she go? Or is she -?”

“She ain’t dead,” Reno interjects, “but I, when I was little, it was mostly this old lady takin’ care of me. Don’t know if she was my gran or what. I just remember that my ma came to visit less and less, and then after a while she stopped comin’, and that was it.”

There are plenty of gaps in this story that Reeve wants to ask about, but he keeps his mouth shut because he’s not certain that Reno will keep talking if he interrupts.

“Wasn’t my ma’s fault,” Reno continues somewhat defensively as he misjudges Reeve’s silence. “She was real young. Like, _too_ young, you know? Havin’ a kid musta been hard on her.”

“It must have been hard on you, too.”

“Man, why d’you always turn shit around on me? You ain’t my therapist.”

Despite himself, Reeve feels a stab of annoyance. “What do you want me to do? Not care about your feelings?”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Feelings,” he replies. “Feelings. Feelings. Feelings.”

There’s a beat of quiet. Then Reno emits an ugly snort. “Scarlet was right,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ weirdo.”

Reeve shifts so that their shoulders brush against each other. “You like it, though.”

“...yeah, I guess I do.”

...

When they return to the house, Reeve’s mother has retired to her rooms, and Sonya is passed out on the sofa. After throwing a blanket over her, Reeve follows Reno upstairs to prepare for bed. 

As he slips beneath the sheets and waits for Reno to finish washing up, Reeve reflects on the many questions he doesn’t have the guts to ask. Who was Reno’s father? What happened to the old woman who took care of him? How does he know his mother is alive?

When Reno emerges from the bathroom - his hair freshly blow dried and hanging loose and soft past his shoulders - Reeve makes room for him on the bed. He frowns, however, when the redhead confines himself with an uncharacteristic awareness of personal space to the very edge of the mattress. 

“Um, I don’t need that much room,” he says, genuinely worried Reno might fall off the bed. His eyes drift reluctantly to the stiff armchair in the corner. “If it makes you more comfortable, I can sleep somewhere else.”

Grunting dismissively, Reno rolls to face him and gives his side a playful pinch. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Tuesti.”

“Only if you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Reclining with his hands behind his head, Reno scowls at the ceiling. “That stuff about my past. I don’t usually talk about it.”

“Um, I kind of figured.”

“I dunno what my deal is, yo. You invite me to Costa del Sol for a good time, and I end up spewin’ my tragic backstory all over.”

Reeve tries to think of something that will wipe that profoundly unhappy expression from Reno’s face. “Well, I promised you rest and relaxation and ended up subjecting you to my family, so I think we’re even.”

“They really ain’t that bad.” 

“...yeah, I know.”

“Was nice you all let me tag along.”

Reeve wonders, not for the first time, if Reno isn’t rather lonely. “It was our pleasure to host you,” he says, meaning every word of it.

Reno turns to meet his gaze. “Why is it that whenever I talk to you, you look at me like you got somethin’ more to say?”

Reeve clears his throat. “I just...I know you’re embarrassed, but it means a lot to me that you told me what you did. It makes me feel closer to you.”

Reno doesn’t say anything to that at first, and for a few horrible seconds Reeve is convinced he’s about to get up and leave. Instead, the redhead rolls towards him and presses against his side. 

“You wanna fuck?” he mutters, words muffled against Reeve’s collarbone.

Reeve sits up as much as he’s able to with the other’s weight pinning him. “Um, now?”

Reno closes his eyes. “We don’t gotta.”

“Do you want to, though?”

“It’s late,” Reno says, sounding suddenly exhausted. “Might be better if we just sleep.”

…

When Reeve wakes, it’s to an empty bed and an insistent case of morning wood. 

He’s not overly surprised by either of these things. Reno’s been awake when he falls asleep and up by the time he wakes every night of their vacation. 

As for the erection, well, that’s biology.

Resolving to ignore his primal urges in favor of locating coffee, Reeve drags himself out of bed, makes sure his pajama top suitably hides his crotch, and wanders downstairs.

The first thing he notices when he enters the living room is that it’s too quiet - i.e. there’s no sign of his mom and sister. Or Reno for that matter.

Upon entering the kitchen, he notices a yellow post-it note stuck to the fridge.

_Mom and I caught the early ferry back to Junon. You’re welcome ^.^_

Reeve wonders if the fact that his heart jumps for joy upon reading this makes him a terrible son. Probably, but he has more pressing matters to attend to.

He finds Reno outside on the deck. He’s wearing cut-off jeans and one of Reeve’s tropical print shirts left unbuttoned. He’s also holding a cigarette, but when he sees Reeve looking at it, he puts it out in his coffee.

“Hey sleepin’ beauty,” Reno says, abandoning his spoiled beverage on the railing and making his way over to wind both arms around Reeve’s waist. “You hear the news?”

“Sure did. Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” Leaning in, Reno treats Reeve to a slow, lazy kiss that makes his toes positively curl. The redhead tastes like coffee, toothpaste, and tobacco - bitter and fresh at the same time.

Unable to help himself, Reeve slides a hand into Reno’s hair, making a mess of his ponytail so he can pull him closer. Reno, warm and pliant with morning sunlight, is entirely amenable. 

When they part for air, his gaze flickers to Reeve’s crotch.

“Someone’s energetic.”

Mortified, Reeve shifts his hips so that his erection isn’t pressing quite so insistently into Reno’s hip. “It’s a biological response,” he protests, burying his face in the other’s shoulder to hide his shame. 

“Relax, I get it.” Pulling away, Reno stretches until his back cracks - giving Reeve a liberal view of his toned belly. “So what’s the plan for our last day? You wanna go to the beach?”

What Reeve really wants to do is kiss Reno some more, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it. “Or we could drive into town,” he says. “Check out the Sunday market before we have to catch the ferry.”

Neither seems in much of a hurry to go anywhere, though. Instead, they spend the morning lounging around the house. Reeve turns the radio down low and makes pancakes while Reno offers to help but ends up playing a puzzle game on his PHS instead. It’s just about the most relaxed Reeve’s felt in his entire life, and as he watches Reno talk with his hands while wolfing down the food he cooked, he wonders if this fullness is something he could keep - a life like the one his mother wants for him.

“Yo, you even listenin’ to me?” Across the table, Reno waves a fork to get his attention.

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“I really like you. You know that, right?”

Halfway through a gulp of orange juice, Reno splutters. When he’s finished coughing, his expression settles on something close to panic. “You really...uh...okay. Cool.”

Reeve arches an eyebrow. “I’m not trying to make things weird.”

“Ain’t that. I just...I like you too?” Drumming his fingers on the table, Reno chuckles anxiously. “Holy fuck. I’m bad at this.”

“Kind of, but it’s cute.”

“Cute?!”

Deciding to give him space to decide whether or not to be offended by that statement, Reeve gathers their dishes and carries them to the sink. He’s just set them to soak when he feels a warm chest press up against his back. 

“I’m not cute,” Reno murmurs against his temple. “Anyway, can I ask you somethin’?”

Reeve shivers as the redhead spares a moment to lick his earlobe. “S-sure.”

“Is there a reason you don’t wanna plow me?”

“Wuh...uuh?”

“Like, are you not into that? Or do I make you nervous? ‘Cause I ain’t down for anything too kinky. That’s just office gossip...mostly office gossip. And I’m clean, too, so if you’re worri-.” 

“Reno!” Twisting around, Reeve squishes the other’s face between his hands and gives him a stern look. “I think about having sex with you _all the time_ , okay? I just...I’m in a position of power over you at work, and-.”

“I read the whole fuckin’ HR policy. I don’t report to you, so it ain’t an issue. Listen,” Reno continues, cheeks still sandwiched between his palms, “I ain’t tryin’ to guilt trip you or nothin’. I just wanna know what I’m doin’ wrong.”

Reeve swallows hard. “You’re not doing anything _wrong._ I just...I might be a little insecure.”

“Of _what?_ ”

“Literally all of it? I...you’re...you know.”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“It seems like you’re so...experienced.”

“Experienced?” Reno gives him a weird look. “Uh, I guess I been around.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” Reeve practically shouts, waving his hands and feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. “I just...well, you’re so confident. And attractive.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Reno steps back and regards him with his hands on his hips. “Like you ain’t?”

“Well, I-.”

“‘Cause you’re pretty fuckin’ hot.” Reno chews on his lip a moment, uncharacteristically hesitant in his choice of words. “Listen, can’t you just think of me as a normal guy instead of someone you gotta impress?”

“But I _want_ to impress you.” 

“It really ain’t that hard. Let’s back up. What are you into?”

It’s a direct question, and it speaks volumes to Reeve’s hang-ups that he can’t find it in himself to respond.

Reno’s expression becomes steadily more pained as silence stretches between them. “How about...would you hate it if I wanted to blow you?”

Reeve balks. “...no?”

“No you wouldn’t hate it, or no you don’t want me to?”

“First one!”

“Great. So, like, would you hate it if I wanted to blow you _now?_ ”

…

Ten minutes later Reno’s got him pinned to the sofa and is kissing him enthusiastically while Reeve works up the nerve to touch his butt.

“It’s okay!” Reno rasps when his hand hesitates at the small of his back. “You can...oh my god. Yes. Keep doin’ that.”

Reeve gives Reno’s ass another tentative squeeze, and the redhead groans like he’s done something a lot more impressive. “Can I?” he asks, tugging lightly at the hem of Reeve’s shirt.

Reeve nods and allows Reno to send both their tops sailing to some distant corner of the living room. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. Reno already saw him shirtless at the beach. 

There’s not enough space in his brain to be self-conscious for long, though, not when Reno is leaning over him, eyes bright and hands smoothing firmly down his torso. “You look so fuckin’ good,” he says, burying his face in Reeve’s chest hair and digging his fingers into the soft part of his sides. “Seriously, Tuesti. You’re killin’ me.” 

Reeve lets out a shaky groan, silently appreciative of the confidence boost these words bring. Still, there’s something that’s been bothering him. “You can call me by my first name, you know?”  
  


“...Reeve?”

There’s something almost tentative in how Reno says it, and suddenly Reeve wonders if he’s not the only one who’s nervous.

He gasps, distracted from his musings as Reno mouths his way down to the waistband of his pajamas. “Uh,” he says intelligently as Reno traces his happy trail with his tongue. “That’s, um, wow.” 

“You good, Reeve?”

He nods. “Just...peachy.”

“You know how many times I jerked off thinkin’ about this?” Reno mutters, voice hushed as he eases Reeve’s pants aside. “Want you so far down my throat I feel it in the gut.”

...

At first it’s a little awkward, but Reno clearly knows his way around a cock, and the amount of time it takes to get from awkward to pretty great is briefer than Reeve was expecting. As he blows him, Reno strokes his thighs and watches his expression with sharp eyes through his bangs. He doesn’t touch himself until Reeve’s about to cum. Then he jerks them both off fast and sloppy with his face buried in Reeve’s throat and his hand wrapped tightly around their dicks.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Reno groans when they’re both spent. “Was startin’ to think you didn’t like me.”

Thoughts foggy on the tail of the most satisfying orgasm he’s had in literally a decade, Reeve shakes his head. “I think you’re wonderful.”

Reno grumbles noncommittally and wiggles down so that he can hide his blush in the slight paunch of Reeve’s stomach. When Reeve starts scratching gently at his scalp, he releases a deep, contented sigh. 

“Look at me,” he murmurs, breath ghosting across Reeve’s belly button. “‘M goin’ soft.”

“You’re allowed to.” 

Reno’s eyes drift shut, and bit by bit he goes limp until he’s practically boneless beneath Reeve’s touch. It would be sweet if it weren’t sort of sad how much he craves affection despite obviously having little experience receiving it. It’s not just moments like this that betray him. Sometimes Reeve will catch Reno looking at him in this quiet, frustrated way like he wants something but can’t work out how to get there. He wonders if that isn’t also where the inappropriately timed sexual propositions come from - Reno trying to initiate intimacy in the only way he knows how.

“...nbr...mmm...no...guh…”

“What’s that?” he asks when the other mumbles something indecipherable against his belly. 

Reno turns his head to the side but keeps his eyes lidded so Reeve can’t catch his gaze. “I said I never met no one like you.” 

Reeve thinks of their first date, how Reno had shown up at his apartment full of swagger and carefully crafted charm. He’s fond of that Reno, but he thinks he might like this soft, almost bashful version even better.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he says, tracing the shell of Reno’s ear with his thumb. “Hey, what would you say if I told you I want us to be exclusive?”

Knocking the couch’s decorative throw pillows to the floor in his haste to prop himself up, Reno chews his lip. “You mean, like, as a couple?”

“Um, that’s the idea.”

For a long moment, Reno says nothing, simply regarding Reeve with atypically serious gray-blue eyes. 

“Shit,” he finally says. “Okay. Let’s try it.” 

...


End file.
